The Replacement
by vadershelmet
Summary: Dick misses his old partner. Rated T for brief strong language. Please R R!
1. Chapter 1

**The Replacement**

Dick wordlessly carried a tray full of Alfred's freshly-poured tea and hot biscuits to the living room, cups clattering and the hot liquid sloshing around the whole way. Honestly, he would never understand how the old butler did it. Dick could hear two voices from the direction of the fireplace, currently providing heat and light to ward of the blizzard outside. He caught sight of Bruce and Damian laying on the rug, Damian's prized sketchbook between them. Damian was currently explaining a sketch to Bruce, with more excitement than Dick had thought him capable of. Bruce would occasionally offer gentle praise, which Damian soaked up like a sponge. Damian's misbehavior often stemmed from his need for attention, negative or otherwise. Bruce had initially punished Damian for his actions. Dick knew the boy was different from himself, Jason, or Tim. They all fit into their roles at Bruce's side perfectly, knowing when Bruce was proud even when Batman was silent. Damian's affection- starved childhood had prevented him from learning this, which Dick had caught on to quickly during their initial time as partners. Transferring from Dick's supportive, easygoing nature to Bruce's brooding stoicism had been hard for Damian and his father. However, Bruce finally seemed to be connecting with his son, a fact that filled Dick with happiness. And…something else he couldn't quite place. It was like a cold knot in his stomach, twisting around for reasons unknown to Dick. "I had some other drawings," Damian was saying, "but I can't find them anywhere." Bruce's expression didn't change, masking his guilt. Alfred had relayed to Dick what had happened to those other drawings. _Perhaps it was for the best, _he thought.

The clattering of the tray's contents finally made his presence known to the other's, interrupting his musings. He set the tray down on the table with a sigh of relief and a smile. Dick noticed that Alfred had provided three cups and enough food for all of them to sit together. Damian snatched two cups from the tray, handing one to Bruce. "Thank you." Bruce responded, ruffling Damian's hair a bit. Damian had always hated when Dick became physical with him, but he only grinned at Bruce's touch. After a few moments, Damian noticed that Dick hadn't moved to sit with them.

"Aren't you going to sit with us, Grayson?" he asked, confused. _Us._ That feeling returned with a vengeance, and Dick finally figured out what it was. He gave the boy a sad smile.

"Sorry, Lil' D." he said. "I've got an early flight tomorrow, and I need to rest." Damian's contented face shattered, along with Dick's heart. It wasn't often he got to see his family, and he remembered how upset Dami had been when Dick had resumed his role as Nightwing again. He knew Damian cared, even if he wouldn't admit it openly.

"You're _leaving_?" Damian sputtered, his relaxation and enjoyment fading fast. Bruce gave him _the_ look, the look that meant Bruce knew something was up. Dick looked away, finding Bruce's expression just as uncomfortable as he had a decade ago.

"I'll come say goodbye in the morning. Don't worry." Dick said, trying to reassure the boy. Bruce laid a hand on Damian's shoulder, trying to calm him down. Damian relaxed only slightly, and Dick seized the opportunity to hug him goodnight. He refrained from going over to Bruce, as he could tell by his mentor's expression that Bruce would find him and expect an answer later. Needless to say, Dick was dreading that particular conversation. "'Night." he said, and retreated back into the kitchen, leaving the others stunned in his wake.

Dick took a seat on one of the bar stools, attempting to gather his thoughts. It was then that he noticed Alfred, polishing dishes with a rag. "Aren't you going to join them, sir?" he asked. Dick grimaced.

"I'm heading to bed, Alfred. Besides, they were having enough fun without me." The butler gave him a knowing look.

"Master Richard, I have been able to recognize when you had a problem since you were a boy. As always, you can confide in me, should you so desire." Alfred said, setting down a glass and moving to lean on the counter. Dick was silent for a moment.

"Promise not to tell Bruce?"

"Butler's honor, sir." Alfred said, face serious. Dick doubted there was such a thing, but continued anyway. Alfred's dry humor always managed to uplift him.

"Well, basically, I…..I'm _jealous. _Of Bruce, of all things. It's ridiculous." Dick said angrily.

"Might I require as to why, sir?" Alfred asked.

"I shouldn't feel this way. Damian's spending every waking moment with Bruce, and…"

"And you wish he were with you instead." Alfred finished. Dick bowed his head in shame.

"I just…remember when I was the one he wanted to be with. When it was me he wanted attention from. When we sat in that exact fucking spot and looked at his book, for God's sake!" he raged. "I shouldn't feel like this. Damian has every right to spend time with Bruce. It's completely illogical that.."

"Richard." Alfred said, cutting him off. "You of all people should know that humans are _anything _but rational. You simply long for a period when you were happy and comfortable, and you enjoyed the fact that Damian held you on a pedestal."

"The boy doesn't value your affection any less than he does Master Bruce's. Why else would he be so distressed by your departure?" Dick sighed. Alfred was right, of course. That hurt much less than the fact than Damian now looked to his father for guidance instead of him.

"I am so petty." Dick said, annoyed. "You're right, Alfred. I shouldn't have let this get to me."

"Sir, I-"

"Thanks, Alfred." Dick said, and left quickly. Alfred sighed, feeling more helpless now than he had his entire life.

The next morning, Dick crept through the hallways of the manor, duffel bag slung over one shoulder. Sure enough, Bruce had appeared soon after carrying a sleeping Damian to bed. They had talked for a while, Dick dodging Bruce's every attempt to coax out his feelings, Bruce had given up, and gone to bed frustrated. Dick had hardly slept a wink afterwards. Dead tired, he opened the door to Damian's room slowly, and crept inside. He walked to Damian's bed, only to discover that thee sleeping boy had his headphones in, though he couldn't make out what was playing. He gently removed the earbuds and stuck one just outside his own ear. _"You're my son."_ came Bruce's voice. "_All I want is for you to be the best Damian Wayne you can be." _The words the played again, set on an infinite loop. Dick sighed, loud enough that he accidentally woke Damian.

"Grayson?" Damian asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. When he saw Dick's bag, he swallowed. "You're leaving?" he asked again, sadness palpable in his voice.

"Afraid so." Dick said sadly. "I came to say goodbye." he stated, drawing the boy into a tight embrace.

"I don't want you to leave." Damian said, voice cracking. Dick could feel the material of his jacket begin to become wet as Damian's little shoulders trembled. "You can't go." he moaned, "Not again." Dick shushed him, rocking Damian gently.

"I'll be back, Dami. You know I will." He whispered, desperately trying to comfort the child. He rubbed small circles into Damian's back as he rocked him, staying like that for several minutes. Dick stopped once he realized Damian had fallen back asleep. He sighed and wiped at the moisture in his eyes, then placed an envelope on Damian's nightstand. Then, looking back at Damian one last time, he shut the door gently and proceeded out front to his waiting motorcycle. He passed by Bruce, who apparently hadn't slept at all. Not a single word was said between them. Dick got on his bike, revved the engine, and sped off to the airport, leaving Gotham, and his family, behind.

**Reviews are always welcomed! **

**Author's Note: 9/8/13 **

**I originally intended this to be a one-shot, but I might add another chapter depending on what the reviewers think. Thanks to all who replied.**


	2. Chapter 2

**The Replacement **

Dick shuddered as he watched his breath crystalize in the bitter Chicago cold, grateful to finally be home to his apartment. Yesterday's events weighed heavily on his mind, even more so than they had on the flight from Connecticut. It hadn't been the first time Damian had been upset over his departure; in fact, it happened so often it was almost a normal occurrence. Dick hadn't realized how close the boy had gotten to him, nor had he expected to feel the same. He loved Damian to pieces, but he hadn't expected leaving him would be so difficult. The problem, however, was that leaving hadn't become any easier. Dick stopped his train of thought to twist his key in to the heavy locks, and stepped inside. Within a second, he realized he wasn't alone.

Keen blue eyes scanned the room, recalling the Bat's lessons: _Scan corners and alcoves first, use darkness for cover. Take out armed attackers first, using stealth and intimidation. Their fear is key. _Suddenly, the lights flipped on, and Dick was greeted not by a robber or a cape, but by a woman with bright red hair and emerald eyes that sparkled, even in the shadows by the sofa. "Expecting a late-night hooligan out for cash?" Barbara asked, rising from her seat to greet him. _Rising. _Dick had almost forgotten the memory of her walking, of Batgirl's long legs pushing her through leaps over rooftops, boots colliding with some unlucky criminal's jaw.

"Babs….wha-how did you get in here?"

"It's me, remember? I hope you don't mind, but I helped myself to the contents of your fridge. You should've hit Target on your way here."

"My apologies." he said drily. "What brings you to my pad this fine evening?" She smiled a little at that. He had always loved her smile, the way it brightened the room, threating to cancel out Bruce's grim demeanor.

"I heard you had a little trouble leaving Gotham." she explained. "Care to tell your sordid tale?" she asked, face neutral. _That _expression meant she already knew everything, probably having heard it from Bruce. But knowing how tight-lipped his mentor was about….everything in general, Barb had probably pieced together the incident herself. Her brain scared him sometimes. Tim, with his little spy cams and monitors and paranoia that rivaled Bruce's, seemed almost average compared to Barbara. An oracle, indeed.

"Want some coffee to wash away my misery and self-pity?" he asked, trying to keep thing light. She frowned at him now, concerned.

"What's up with you? Since when does Dick Grayson, king of happiness and rainbow-feelies let anything bring him down?"

"Why ask questions to which you already know the answers?" he said, grabbing two mugs from the cabinet.

"Damian will be over it in a day, just like every other time. You know how he is. He'll hide in his bed until he practically starves, then sulk with daddy, then be done." She was right, of course. But Dick, resilient as he was, didn't possess Damian's childlike ability of emotional recovery, no matter how deeply buried inside the kid it was.

"I never thought I would miss that life. A dusty old house with a butler and a man who has the emotional range of a cabbage seemed like a memory. But now, I want to be there with them again. The bachelor's life is just _lonely _now, Barb. Out of all the old gang, I'm the one who's still single. Wally, Roy, everyone's married with kids. I'm still here, living out my dreams. Should've known they never turn out like you want." Barbara laid a hand on his shoulder when he proceeded to the couch, mugs in hand.

"Damian holds you on a pedestal. You and Bruce are like gods to him. You were the first person who genuinely cared for him, and he latched on to that. He came to expect the comfort and security you provided, and was naturally upset when that was taken from him. It's a standard child's response." she explained gently. "Eventually, he'll realize that you can't always be around. You have to let him work through this alone. Giving in will only draw this out."

"I feel like a horrible person, doing that to him. I can count on one hand the number of times he's cried, and that started when I put on the black and blues again."

"This is a phase. He'll never stop loving you, Dick. Bruce isn't trying to take him away."

"So much for private conversations, huh?" he asked. It wasn't surprising, really. Bruce believed secrets sewed dissention and mistrust. Now, only after secrets had cost him his first partner.

"I didn't need Bruce to tell me how you felt. I've always been good at reading you." The air was heavy between them for a moment, and Dick longed to lean over and take her in his mouth again…

"Your coffee sucks." she said abruptly, breaking the silence between them. Her face was flushed, and her eyes wrought with sadness. He knew they could never have what they once did again, and that hoping otherwise was stupid. "I hear there's a bistro open late not far from here. You're taking me." she announced, and left him sitting in the living room alone. After a moment, a grin erupted on his face, and he chased after her, briefly feeling like a lovestruck little robin all over again.

The halls of Wayne Manor were dim compared to the brightness outside, the sun struggling to reflect its light off of the snow from behind thick walls of grey clouds. The fact that the sun had appeared before the mansion's youngest little bird was vaguely distressing to Alfred. Usually the boy awoke at the crack of dawn, exercising rigorously before eating. Alfred tapped gently on Damian's door, and after hearing nothing, called his name. Still no sound emerged. Alfred sighed heavily, and continued further down the hall. In short order, the master bedroom's curtains were flung open, sending light streaming into the room. "Rise and shine, sir." Alfred said, stirring Bruce from his sleep. He rubbed his eyes, and immediately noticed the look on Alfred's face. "Master Damian is hiding in there again, sir. I believe it is your turn to coax him out." the butler said, a hint of worried humor in his voice. Bruce sighed, then stretched before heading back down the hall to his son's room. Not bothering with pleasantries, he strode inside to confront Damian.

"Go 'way." commanded a little lump beneath the blankets of the huge bed. On the floor, Titus whined at his little master's distress.

"Dami, you can't do this every time Dick leaves. It's not healthy to skip training or breakfast. You'll be off balance." Bruce informed the boy, gently peeling back the various layers of the cocoon Damian had fashioned for himself. He finally reached the boy's face, now stained by tears, and pulled him in to his lap. Damian sniffled and leaned in to Bruce, seeking comfort. Bruce stroked his son's sleep- matted hair and gently rocked him back and forth, trying hard to console him. Raising Damian was challenging, to say the least. Bruce had known him to be precocious, arrogant, and spoiled at first, before his death at the hands of Darkseid. Upon his return he had discovered Damian had grown, not just physically, but in maturity as well. Damian was still arrogant and angry, but he was desperate to please his father and prove himself worthy of Robin's mantle, something Dick had instilled in him after hours of lectures and arguments. While Damian still needed to be worked with, Bruce firmly believed his son only needed the proper guidance to help him along. And Bruce wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon.

"Why can't you and Grayson just get along?" the boy demanded, angrily pounding on a pillow with his fist. "Why do you always fight over everything? It's not fair!" he cried, starting to become upset again.

"Nothing in life is ever fair, Damian. That's not the point. I love Dick very much, just like I love you. But we have differing opinions on a lot of things, and that affects how we work together. Dick will always have a place here, but our time as partners is over." Bruce said, a little more coldly than he would have preferred.

"Don't you ever miss him, Father?"

"Of course I do. But we all have to move on, Damian. I have a new partner now, who's going to miss his breakfast if he doesn't hurry." Damian sighed, and pulled a crumpled piece of paper from under the sheets. Bruce recognized Dick's handwriting, as well as the torn envelope that used to contain it.

"I suppose you are correct, Father." Damian said, clutching the letter tightly. "Can we go eat now?" he asked after a moment's silence.

Bruce chuckled at his son's change of attitude, and picked the boy up for the journey to Alfred's waiting breakfast in the kitchen.

**Well, after a lot of good feedback, I turned this in to a two-shot per request. Thanks to everyone who read and took the time to review.**


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